Lead Me into Your Darkness
by tbazzsnow
Summary: Written for the Carry On Countdown 2018 Nov 29 prompt Mythology. Simon and Baz as Persephone and Hades but with a twist on the original story.


**Lead Me into Your Darkness**

Nov. 29 Mythology

 **Baz (Hades)**

I've seen him. When I go above.

I do go above, more often than people think. I don't have to stay down here all the time. I've got an efficient system set up.

The heroes in the Elysian Fields can mostly manage themselves. They don't need me. All they really do is drink and slap each other on the back and then tell the most outrageous stories. 

I'd rather not even go near them. They are quite tiresome.

If a brawl breaks out Dev can take care of it. That's his job after all.

Those being tormented get a day of rest when I go above. Can't leave anyone reliably in charge of them for long. Niall is too soft hearted.

It's a fine art, torment. There's a finesse to it. You have to make the punishment fit the crime. It brings out my creative side.

I try not to leave too often. There's no point in having them all think I've gone soft. They deserve their punishments. The things they've done are truly monstrous. Tantalus. Sisyphus. Atreus. All bad characters.

This boy, though. He's caught my eye and I can't shake the mysterious golden-haired vision of him from me. I've seen him in the forest, his fair hair gleaming in the dappled sunlight. Sometimes he's shown up near the shore, the waves chasing him as he runs across the sand, his skin sun-kissed.

I last saw him in a field of wheat, looking so breathtaking that I almost forgot myself and let him catch sight of me. The gold of his hair was glowing so brightly in the sun, his tawny freckled skin gleaming. You'd think he'd have faded into the crop of grain surrounding him, his coloring matched it so closely.

But he didn't. It framed him so perfectly I couldn't take my eyes off him.

I leave my chariot behind now, when I go above. It attracts too much attention. I save it for the times I have to go all the way up to Olympus. It's far too challenging to get there without it.

I can move more swiftly, more stealthily, when I'm alone. I can follow this boy unseen.

It's stupid, really, this fascination of mine. He's a creature of brightness. What business do I have with him?

I'm dark and solitary and brooding. That's what people say of me. Even the other gods say so.

And those are the nice comments.

Of course they still send their sacrifices my way. No one risks offending me. All fear the depths of Tartarus. The Underworld is justly dreaded.

But it's beautiful too. The rivers have their purpose but they also have their own allure. The rushing waters sing their unique song, here below. The Elysian Fields are green and rich, dotted with multi-coloured flowers. The gems of the earth shine out from the very stone of this place, their variegated light streaming out to brighten my realm.

The stars are below our feet here, not above, gleaming forth in the darkness that is my home.

It took me quite a long time to appreciate the beauty of the realm. I wouldn't have chosen this place, if it had been up to me. But it wasn't up to me. So I make the best of it.

I have quite a lot of time to myself. Not every death requires my judgement and sentence. There are those who have lived just lives who simply exist here in tranquility, healed of all their earthly sorrows. They have no need of me.

My services are only necessary when the worst of transgressions have been committed—crimes of passion, of calumny, of bloodshed. The kind that are too distasteful for my minions to handle.

I bide my time, reading my books, playing my music to fill the vast silences of my halls.

For I am almost always alone.

I think that's why this boy touches my heart so. He's always alone when I see him but he seems glad of it. There is a smile on his face that shines as brightly as the sun.

He would leave little to the shadows, were he to come down to my realm.

But that will never happen. What reason does he have to ever come here?

 **Simon**

I've seen him three times now. Just glimpses of him—pale skin, as pale as the moon. Dark hair, the waves of it falling so I can't quite see his face.

He stays in the shadows.

I wonder who he is, where he comes from, why he stays far from me. I don't mean him any harm.

I think he's content to watch me. I think that's why he comes.

I wonder if he's lonely too.

I keep myself alert the next time I catch sight of him. It is harvest time again, just like the last time I spotted him, and the wheat fields are rich with bounty.

My mother never begrudged the farmers their abundance. She reveled in it.

My father is a different story. He covets it, grows angry when the sacrifices are not made, when the bounty is not shared to his satisfaction at his temples. He sends the karpoi to blight the farmers plenty, curb their joy, take what he feels is his due. He wants it for himself. The power, the riches, the homage.

My mother is gone now.

I don't know where she went. Father said she went to find the Garden of the Hesperides but I don't believe him.

She never wouldn't have left me behind.

I still search for her. I don't think I'll ever find her. It's been too long. But it comforts me to go to the places she loved so well-the fields of ripening grain, the sun-dappled forest glades, the shores of the sea.

That's where I saw him for the first time, this mysterious dark-haired boy. In the forest. He stood in the shadows but I caught just a glimpse of him.

I've seen him enough times now that I know where to look for him. Deep in the shadows, always at a distance.

I think he is lonely.

But he doesn't need to stay that way.

I don't think he realizes I've followed him this time. I can be stealthy too, when I choose.

He slips into a crack in the rock, along the east side of this valley. It can't be more than a hollow. I know the terrain here and there are no caves that I recall.

I'm wrong, it seems. The narrow cleft widens further in, piercing deep into the mountainside. It is a cavern after all. There is no sign of him but I hear a faint echo of footsteps ahead.

I let my eyes adjust to the dimness. It's wider than it looks from the exterior and has a definite downward slope. I run my fingers along the far wall and silently follow.

Soon I'm enveloped in darkness and I can't tell what direction I am traveling anymore. There have been so many twists and turns that I've lost my bearings. My fingertips keep skimming the stone to my right. It's what's anchoring me to this path, if you can even call it that.

It must be one though, for it's smooth and even. I've yet to stumble despite the fact that I can't see in the pitch black that surrounds me. All I can tell is that I'm still heading down, deep under the mountain.

The silence is oppressive.

Has it been minutes or hours now? I don't know. The sameness of my surroundings confuses me. I wonder if I should go back. I turn my head to look and there's no difference in the gloom, no matter which direction I face.

I set my jaw. I can take care of myself, whatever lies ahead. My knife is sheathed in my belt.

I keep moving forward and think perhaps I may have turned myself around after all for it seems to be getting brighter.

Step by step the oppressive gloom lifts but I can see it's not daylight. Tiny glimmers of light sparkle from the wall my fingers trail against and when I look down minute shards of light gleam there as well. It's even brighter up ahead.

What is this place?

The colours gleam forth—reds, blues, greens, violets. Colours of the flowers that I love but somehow their light is embedded and glowing in the stone that surrounds me.

Each step takes me further into this subtle brightness. It makes me think of starry nights, inverted from above to sparkle below my feet instead.

At first I think it's my imagination but before long the sound of rushing water fills my ears, thunderous after such extended silence.

It's a narrow underground stream. Not wide or difficult to ford, although I'm reluctant to touch the water. There's something about it that gives me pause.

Not too wide to jump over. A running leap should do it. I crash down on the opposing bank, stumble to my knees and scrape them both on the jagged rock. I brush the debris from my hands and legs and stand up to survey this side of the river. 

It's even brighter here.

 **Baz**

I didn't realize he was following me until I was in the cave itself. This is only one of the many entrances to the Underworld.

I don't keep them guarded. There's no need. They are glamoured well enough. Mortals only see a small crevice in the stone and unless they are dead they cannot pass through the enchantment.

Only gods can. And there are few gods who willingly choose to enter my domain.

But he did, this nameless golden boy. I can sense his presence behind me. I pick up my pace. I know I can't shake him—there are no side paths or forks in this road.

All paths in the underworld eventually lead to me.

This one far more directly, as it leads to my own private rooms. I had it made for me, when I first arrived down here. I don't like having to traipse by the waiting halls, identification chambers, processing facilities.

The recent dead are easily unnerved by my presence. It's better if they have a little time to process their change in status before they actually see me.

This exit lets me come and go as I please.

But now it's let him in too.

I stand in my chambers, nervously drumming my fingers on the table, as I wait for him to arrive.

I'm tempted to beat a hasty retreat, head to Tartarus for an unplanned inspection or go bait the glorious dead at the Elysian Fields. Anything rather than come face to face with this boy who haunts my dreams and inhabits my fantasies.

I've wanted to see him, talk to him, make my presence known time and time again. I've imagined him being here but now that he actually is here all I want to do is hide.

Too late for that it seems.

I freeze.

He steps into my chambers, blinking at the brightness of this room.

He's just as gorgeous and golden here as he was above ground.

He meets my eyes and smiles. A slow, shy smile.

His eyes are the deepest blue. And I lose myself in them.

 **Simon**

I step through the archway and find myself in a large room. There's a fire blazing and for a moment its brightness is all I can see. I blink a bit and my eyes grow accustomed to the light.

And there he is.

The boy who's been watching me from the shadows.

The firelight casts his face in sharp relief. Or maybe his cheekbones are just that sharp. I move closer to him. I'd think him an astoundingly lifelike statue if it wasn't for the breath I see him take. Even in the warm firelight he looks as if he were carved of marble.

He's stunning.

I have to look up to meet his eyes. They're deep and mesmerizing, set against the pallor of his skin.

It's hard to tell the colour, even with me this close to him. I think they're grey. Not a flat grey. This is the grey of the ocean at dusk. The sky right before sunrise. The grey of rain spattered stone.

I smile. "I'm not sure quite where I am. Or who you are. But I saw you today. I've seen you before today actually but today's the first time I was brave enough to follow you." I can hear another sharp intake of breath from him and his eyes widen at my words. "I'm Simon."

 **Baz**

Skill with words is one of my many attributes but my powers of speech have completely abandoned me at the moment. I stare at this boy, at Simon.

He saw me. He knows I've been watching him. The god of the dead has been covertly watching him and what does he do? He follows me to the underworld.

He's either monumentally brave or congenitally stupid. I'm honestly not sure which.

I try to think of something to say. I draw myself up to my full height in an attempt to tower over him but I've obviously forgotten everything I know about being menacing because all I can muster up is a complete pathetic introduction. "I'm Baz. It's nice to finally meet you, Simon."

What in Hecate's name is this? _"Nice to meet you?"_ Who says that? Certainly not the intimidating and ominous sovereign of the Underworld. I'm utterly wretched at this.

I'm mortified. He's going to think I'm one of the minions if I keep this up. The lesser minions.

Simon just beams at me. "Where is this, then? What's this place? Do you live here? Are there other people down here?"

I gape at him. How is this place not intimidating to him? It's all darkness and portentous carvings with a hint of oppressive doom to round it out. It would be gloomy to me if I didn't live here (actually I do find it gloomy at times)(hence the private exit)(and the periodic jaunts above.)

I clear my throat. It would be best if I sat down. I feel a touch lightheaded. I gesture to the chair across from me and Simon drops into it without hesitation. I sink into my own chair and clear my throat again. "This is the Underworld."

"The Underworld?" If anything, Simon looks even more excited. "Really? You live here? What's it like? I didn't know people actually lived down here. I thought it was just where the dead went. After, you know, they died."

"Someone has to manage the place."

Simon's eyes widen. "You're in charge here then? You're Hades? But I thought you said your name was Baz?"

"My name is Baz. Hades is just the title." 

"You're actually Hades!" Simon starts laughing. "I can't believe I followed you, thinking you were just some cute boy who was too shy to introduce himself when you're actually Hades. Hades! And I followed you into the Underworld. Oh, Penny'll never believe this one."

My mind stops functioning right at the moment he refers to me as a cute boy. No one has ever referred to me as cute. Not in my hearing. Perhaps my mother did once but she's been gone so long I can barely remember her. He said I was cute.

But all I manage to say is "Who's Penny?"

"Penny's my best friend. She's the goddess of logical arguments. It makes for somewhat long conversations but she's great, really. You'll love her." He leans back in his chair and grins at me.

"I should probably show you the way back to the surface." It hurts me to say that but I know it's what I need to say. Simon needs to get back above. To the sunshine that caresses his skin. To the friend who waits for him.

His brow furrows. "Why? There's no rush for me to leave. I'd like to take a look around, if I can." Then he sits up and his face flushes. I feel a bit dizzy again at the sight. "I'm sorry, Baz. I'm being terribly rude. I trailed you down here and then barged right into your private rooms. I'm sure you've got a million things you need to be doing, sorting the dead and all and here I am wasting your time." He stands and shifts from foot to foot. "I'm sorry."

I'm on my feet too. "No, no. Please don't feel like you're intruding. I mean I wasn't expecting you but now that you're here please don't feel like you're bothering me. You're not." I'm babbling. I take a breath and try to steady myself. "I don't get many visitors. Any visitors really. I've got the processing the dead part down to a science but I'm a bit out of practice on the friendly hospitality side of things." I can feel my lips quirk up into a smile. It's not something I do very often. "You're serious about wanting a tour?"

 **Simon**

It must be hours before we end up back in Baz's chambers. It's fascinating, the way he's got things organized. Tartarus is a bit overwhelming but Baz didn't have us linger there overlong. The Elysian Fields were nice but I think I like the places where the gemstones gleam out of the rocks the best. I told Baz that. It made him smile. I get the feeling he doesn't smile very often. He does it slowly, like he's uncertain of the motion.

The gems are his favorite part too. I think he misses the stars.

We're back at the table, sitting across from each other and Baz is explaining the sorting process the souls go through when they arrive. It's all very orderly and thought out. I could never keep it all straight.

That's probably why I'm the god of unexpected consequences. Never know quite what will happen but it usually isn't what you expect. They're not all bad consequences, mind you. Just not what you thought would happen.

I suppose that's what happened to Baz. My being here is the unexpected consequence of him watching me. It's a bit funny when you think about it. It doesn't happen to me though. Being the god of unexpected consequences kind of keeps me from experiencing them myself.

Someone must've been in here since we left. There's a decanter with two glasses on the table and a bowl of the most luscious cherries I've ever seen. My mother was a harvest goddess but I've never seen cherries like this.

I love cherries.

I reach out and grab a handful, popping one in my mouth.

Baz stops speaking, his jaw drops and he is staring at me in utter horror. I'm not quite sure what I've done. I wonder if they're formal about meals here. Should I have waited for him to offer me food and drink? Or am I supposed to wait for him to eat first? I don't know. Things have never been very formal where I come from—if there's bounty you enjoy it and if there's not you share.

I spit the pit out in my hand and look at him questioningly. "All right, Baz?"

 **Baz**

He ate a cherry. I can't believe he ate a cherry. I'm sure one of the servants brought them in while we were out but it was presumptuous of them to do so without my order.

More likely Dev told them to do it. We ran into him as I was showing Simon around. He looked back and forth between us and then got a very smug expression on his face. He asked Simon directly how long he was intending to stay down here and then smirked when Simon darted a glance at me, flushed and then gave a very vague answer.

Blast Dev. He knows the rules. I might be a bit soft for Simon but I'd never want to keep him here against his will.

Too late for that now. At least he only ate one cherry and hasn't had anything to drink.

He still has a handful of cherries in his hand and now a very puzzled expression on his face. He spits the cherry pit out. "All right, Baz?"

"Yes, I mean, no. Simon, you can't eat anything. Don't take another bite, please, I beg you." I reach my hand towards him, meaning to take the cherries out of his hand. He lets me. His hand is warm and callused. I feel a tingling sensation as our fingers meet.

Damn it. Even the one cherry was enough to set off the magic.

"What?" Simon looks even more perplexed. "I'm sorry. I'm terrible at table etiquette, Baz. Penny harps on me about it all the time. I shouldn't have just started eating without waiting for you." He gives me a sheepish smile. "I was just a bit hungry after our tour."

"No, Simon. It's not you. I'm not worried about the etiquette. It's the magic."

"What magic?"

"The living don't venture down here. In fact it's discouraged. It's never any good getting a look at the afterlife while you're still living. The stories they would take back to the surface could be very problematic. The rule is if the living somehow find their way down here, through our barriers and glamours, then they can't stay. They get sent back up immediately. If they overstay their welcome, if they partake of the food and drink of the underworld then they are doomed to stay with us forever."

"Forever?" Simon pales at my words.

"Yes, but you're a god. It can't be binding for you, not one cherry's worth of food. I'm sure it couldn't."

I'm not sure at all. But I don't want to alarm Simon. I'll figure it out. I'll fix this. I have to fix it.

I try to make my expression look reassuring. "Just don't touch anything else, please. I'll take you to the surface right away. I'm so sorry, Simon. I don't know why they brought the food in. They likely brought it for me, not knowing I'd bring you back here." I stand up and motion him to follow me. "Come on. Let's get you back to your home. I'm so very sorry to rush you out like this but I can't risk you staying. The magic shouldn't affect you like it would a mortal but I don't want to risk it holding you here against your will."

Simon stands too. "Don't have anyone get in trouble on my account, Baz. I'm sure it was a simple misunderstanding. I don't want anyone to be punished for my stupidity."

"You're not stupid. It was my fault for not warning you. I didn't even notice the bowl, I was so caught up in talking to you, it didn't even register."

A warm smile crosses his face. "I'm glad to have finally met you, Baz. You won't stay a stranger now that we've met, will you?"

I shake my head. I can't help it. He makes me weak. "No, I won't skulk in the shadows next time I see you, I promise. Now let's get you home."

I take him up the pathway, back the same way he came. Simon moves closer to me as we move further away from my chambers and the darkness rises around us. I feel his hand slip into mine, warm and trusting. I lace our fingers together. It's for his safety I tell myself. It's so he knows where I am in the dark, so he can follow me more easily.

But he came in here on his own in the dark, my mind whispers. He doesn't need you to hold his hand.

I'm not holding his hand. _He's holding mine_ I tell myself. It's a world of difference. If he wants to hold my hand, if he needs the comfort of it as we ascend, then I will gladly offer him that.

We reach the surface and I slip ahead of Simon, out to the open air and sunshine that greets us. He follows me, hand still in mine and he doesn't let go, even when we're clear of the cave.

It worked. He left the Underworld, without any trouble at all. Perhaps I did manage to get him away before the magic fully took hold.

"Do you live far from here, Simon? Do you need me to take you back?" Now that we're here I don't want him to leave. I don't want to go back. I can't even think of that long, lonely walk in the dark. The cold isolation of the path. The echoing silence of my chambers.

Simon shakes his head. "No. I know the way." He squeezes my hand and pulls me a little closer to him. "Do you want to come with me? Visit my home?" I don't know what he sees in my face but he hastily adds "But not if you don't want to. I understand if you have to get back. You've got a lot more to do than me."

"No, it's not that. I'd love to see where you live, Simon. I'm just not too sure of my welcome. I told you—the god of the Underworld tends to unnerve people. So far you're the exception to that."

"Well, you don't unnerve me. But I understand what you mean." His brows lower. "My father might be there and he might not be the most welcoming, now that I think of it. He'll likely just be jealous."

"Jealous? Of me? No one's jealous of me, Simon. I've got the worst job of all the gods."

"Not to him you don't. You've got power and a vast domain and people to do your bidding. He likes that sort of thing." Simon frowns. "Maybe not this time, then. Maybe some time when I'm sure he's not there. I can send you a message maybe? Leave a note or something for you at the cave?"

And that is how our correspondence begins. Simon leaves me notes, messages, strange rocks he's found. Books he thinks I might find interesting. Drawings of the sea, his home, comical caricatures of himself.

I leave him notes and sometimes I meet him there, at the cave, and we walk in the fields or by the river.

The months go by and I think we've managed to stave off the magic. It's been long enough. The one cherry wasn't enough to set it off.

But I'm wrong. The next time Simon waits for me in the cave he's shivering and pale. I rush to his side. "You shouldn't have come. You're sick." Can gods get sick? I don't get sick. Maybe he's been poisoned? "What's wrong, Simon? What's happening?"

"I don't know. It just started yesterday. I started feeling cold all over and weak and all I could think about was coming back here. Like I needed to be here. But it's not any better now that I'm here. I feel shaky, Baz. And I'm hungry. I'm so hungry. Like I've not eaten in days, weeks. But I have, I've eaten all kinds of things. But they all taste like nothing. I don't want to eat any of it. All I'm craving are cherries."

My stomach sinks. It's the magic. I count in my head and realize it's been exactly eleven months to the day that Simon first followed me. This is the magic pulling him back, pulling him to the Underworld. He only ate one cherry so with luck he'll only have to spend a month down there.

But still. A month of his brightness quenched in the shadows of my realm. It breaks my heart.

It also bathes me in warmth. I'll have Simon by my side for an entire month. I hate myself for feeling such elation at the thought. I'm a horrible person. I shouldn't take such joy in his misery.

But once I get him down to the Underworld he isn't miserable anymore. His shaking stops. His smile comes back.

It's just as good as I thought it would be. Better. Because Simon seems to enjoy being with me as much as I enjoy being with him. We stroll through the Elysian Fields hand in hand. I show him the mountains of the underworld and take him to the source of the Lethe and the Styx.

Cerberus takes to him instantly. He'll be utterly useless as a guard dog if I let Simon keep spoiling him

I let Simon keep spoiling him.

The days pass too quickly. Month end comes and I know I must take him back to the surface again.

We've taken to reading together, in front of my fire. Simon's head is in my lap and my fingers are combing through his hair. His eyes are closed, the book resting on his chest. There's a smile on his face and I want to remember this moment forever.

"Tomorrow is the first day of the new month, Simon." He makes an inarticulate noise, eyes still closed. "It's time to take you back. The magic has run its course, I think. One month for one cherry." My fingers skim his cheekbone. "I'm afraid it will happen again, this time next year. I'm so sorry, Simon."

He opens his eyes. "I don't mind, Baz. I got to spend a whole month with you. I'll never regret that. If that's the price I pay for eating one cherry I'd gladly pay it again."

"You can't mean that."

"I do mean that. It's been good. Now I'll have to get used to not seeing you for long stretches of time again. Of having to write down the funny things I see that I think you'll like instead of just telling you. I'll miss this, Baz. I'll miss you."

My heart's beating so rapidly at his words. I've been trying to keep my mind off how desperately I'll miss him, as the days have been drawing to a close. I never thought he'd feel the same.

We part at the entrance to the cave again. It's different this time though. Our hands cling to each other and I can't make myself let go of him. Simon pulls me close and sinks his fingers into my hair. Our faces are so close I can feel his breath.

Close. Closer. And then his lips touch mine and all I can feel is the warmth of his skin, the brush of his lips, the sensation of his fingers gripping my hair.

My mouth opens under his and then . . .

Then he leans back and pulls a cluster of cherries from his tunic. "Where did you get those, Simon?" Any warmth I'd gained from being in his arms is replaced by an icy chill.

I had been so careful this time. No food or drink allowed in my chambers. I'd had food brought from the surface just for him, collected by me at the cave entrance, from one of his own trusted farmers. It never left my sight. The farmer had never brought cherries. These were cherries from the underworld. Just like the ones last year. How did he get them?

"You couldn't be with me every moment of the day, Baz. Dev proved quite accommodating, once he knew why I wanted them." Simon steps out of my arms and throws out a hand to block me from grabbing him.

"Dev? You had Dev bring you cherries? Why, Simon? You know you can't have them. You know what it will do to you."

"I know very well what it will do to me. Which is why I asked Dev to bring me some. Specifically cherries. We know what they do and what eating even one means." He very deliberately waves the cherries at me. I make a grab for them but he's too fast. Simon takes another step back.

One, two, three, four, five. He eats the cherries one by one in front of me, spitting the pits out after he finishes each one. And then he smiles.

I blame myself. I should have been more careful. I blame Dev. I'd send him to bloody Tartarus for this if I could.

"Simon." My voice breaks. "You don't know what you've done."

"I most certainly do know what I've done. I've assured myself at least six months out of the year with you. Six months where I can wake up to you every morning. Where your face is the first thing I see. Six months where I can sleep in the circle of your arms, Baz. All that for just six cherries. I think I'm getting a bargain."

"I'm going to kill Dev."

Simon laughs. I'm momentarily distracted from my thoughts of wreaking havoc on Dev by the sound of it. Simon's laugh has its own magic.

"You can't kill Dev. He's immortal. Anyway I've got a better idea for dealing with his insubordination."

"What? What do you mean? I thought you made him do it."

"I did. I'm glad he didn't give me as much trouble as I expected. But you are his boss and he didn't follow orders. I can't condone you punishing him as you might like but I do have an idea of how to get back at him."

"How's that?"

"I'll be there for six months by all accounts, right?"

"Six cherries, six months, yes."

"That leaves us with six months I won't be here."

This is simple math. I'm not sure what the significance is here and how it relates to Dev.

"Yes?"

"Well, I'll still be missing you, those six months I'm not with you. Likely more than I missed you this whole last year."

I'll be missing him too. The thought of any stretch of time without Simon is abhorrent.

"I'll miss you more," is all I say.

Simon beams at me. "Yes, but the best part of my idea is that you won't have to."

I don't understand at all. "What do you mean? Of course I'll miss you when you're not here."

"Yes, but you don't have to. You'll come with me. When it's time for me to go."

It's tempting. As tempting as anything. But I can't do that. I can't leave my responsibilities.

"Yes, you can." It's as if Simon is reading my mind. "You can leave with me because you're going to leave Dev in charge. Dev will take over while you're with me. It's the perfect punishment. You get to come to the surface for six months and Dev get the yoke of responsibility he so foolishly spurned before."

It's ridiculous. It's impossible. It's brilliant.

"I like the way you think, love."

He's in my arms again and his lips are on mine.

I don't think I've ever been happier with Dev honestly.

 **Simon**

I told Baz I was the god of unexpected consequences.

 _Karpoi are borrowed from Rick Riordan. They are grain spirits. Nasty things._

 _Title from the Depeche Mode song One Caress_


End file.
